Breaking Point
by McGeekle
Summary: "I can speak to her in any way I wish to, Agent DiNozzo. She's a suspect in the unlawful assassination of a Mossad operative. I suggest you remember that before you interrupt one of my interrogations again." They can only be pushed so far. Speculative Tag to 'Double Blind'


There were few things that caused Tony to snap. To go against his better instincts, to get under his skin so much that he could think of nothing else.

Ziva David was one of those things.

Tony stood in observation, his hands clenched in anger as Parsons picked his partner apart. He asked her about her father, about her past with Mossad, about her relationship with him, with the team, with Michael fucking Rivkin. He was poking every single wound she had, ripping them wide open. Though she didn't outwardly show it, he knew inside she was bleeding. It took every once of his self control not to burst in there and rip Parson's head off with his bare hands.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, standing otherwise stock still, just watching with a grim expression on his face. His kickass ninja was not a damsel, but she was certainly in distress, and there might not be anything he could do to save her this time.

"Adam Eschel," he heard Parsons say through the glass, effectively pulling him out of his brooding.

Parsons slapped a picture of he and Ziva on the table, staring her down.

"Yes, I know him. He was once my parter in Mossad."

There was something Tony didn't know.

"You used him to get information about Ilan Bodnar."

"I asked him for his help, yes, as Mossad also had an interest in finding Bodnar."

"So you're saying he used you too?"

"No, he did not use me."

"Come on, David, I know what goes on at Mossad. Information doesn't come free," he said, almost condescending. "What did you do for it?"

"What?"

"What did you have to do for him to get the information? Did you sleep with him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you sleep with him?" he demanded.

Tony burst into the room, the door crashing forcefully into the wall.

"Interview's over." Tony said sternly.

"Agent DiNozzo, I'm in the middle of an interrogation."

"You heard me. You're done here."

"Tony…" Ziva began

"Ziva, why don't you take a break." Tony said, staring Parsons down.

She gave him a look that clearly indicated that she was not happy with him, but obeyed, waiting in the hall.

"You crossed a line," he said once Ziva was out of the room.

"Did I, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Hell yes. You have no right talking to her like that," he said sternly, right up in Parsons' face.

"I can speak to her in any way I wish to, Agent DiNozzo. She's a suspect in the unlawful assassination of a Mossad operative. I suggest you remember that before you interrupt one of my interrogations again."

Tony gave the annoyingly collected agent a glare that could freeze hell before stalking out of the room. Ziva stood in the hallway, looking increasingly agitated when he grabbed her by the arm and led her to the men's room.

"Out!" he barked to the man washing his hands. The man jumped slightly before exiting.

"What the hell was that?" Ziva asked angrily.

"He crossed a line."

"He was interrogating me, Tony. I expected it to be uncomfortable. You should have not interrupted him."

"What and let him spit on your integrity?"

"You were defending my honor? Is that what that was?"

"Yes."

"You should not have."

"I wasn't going to let him do that to you."

"My honor does not need defending," she snapped.

"Is that because you can do it yourself or because it's indefensible?"

"I cannot believe you would ask me that. You're just as bad as he is!"

"Doesn't answer my question."

"What makes you think you have a right to know?"

"Because I'm your partner."

"That is not a reason."

"It's the only reason you've needed before."

They maintained their distance, not wanting to provoke one another. Despite that, it did not seem to be working. The look she gave him was hard, angry.

"You should not ask questions you do not want to know the answer to."

They stared each other down for a moment, a standoff at it's best.

"I can't believe you actually slept with him," Tony said almost incredulously, though anger still seeped through his tone.

"Why is that so hard to believe? He is a fairly attractive man."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I do not understand why you are so upset."

"Why would you do that?" He wasn't as angry anymore as she expected, more distressed. It confused her immensely.

"When you need information from a contact, typically there is something valuable exchanged. An exchange of information is typical, but that was…unsuitable…as he would have asked me for information about NCIS, and I was not going to give it to him."

"So you gave it up to him instead."

"Did you not hear what I just said? I did it because I was unwilling to give him any information about NCIS. I was protecting you, and Gibbs and McGee!"

He made a frustrated noise low in his throat.

"What, you always have the right to protect me, but I try to do the same for you and it's what? Shameful? I am not ashamed of what I did, Tony."

"Don't pretend like you did that for me, Ziva. You did it for you. You needed something for _your_ revenge mission, and you went to any length to get it. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you reverted back to all your other Mossad instincts, why should that one be any different?"

"He was the means to an end, Tony, and yes, I did what I had to do to get what I needed from him. Do not act like you have never done the same."

"I have never done what you did."

"Using your body to get what you need from women? You do it every day."

"Not like that," he scoffed, disgusted.

"You do not get to judge me!" She yelled angrily, "You slept with Jeanne for information about her father for months."

"That was different," he said sternly.

"How, Tony? How was that different? Is it because you were on a mission? Because it was orders? Does it make you feel better if you think it wasn't you that made the decision to jump in bed with her?"

"You don't know anything about that, Ziva. Don't pretend that you do."

"You're no different than me, Tony. You do what you have to to finish your mission. That's it."

Another standoff.

"You know what? Do what ever, whomever you want. I don't care."

He turned away, storming out of the room.

"Tony," she started, but he was already gone.

—-

The tone in the bullpen was tense the rest of the day. Tony and Ziva were shooting each other dirty looks across their desks whenever their eyes happened to meet.

By the time they were released by the DoD, the tension was unbearable. Tony left first, sulking out of the bullpen as soon as they were given the go ahead. Ziva lagged behind by a couple of minutes, so they would not have to take the elevator together. As she turned to leave, Gibbs shot her a look that clearly said 'fix it.'

That is how she came to stand in front of the door to Tony's apartment that night. They had both had a few hours away from each other to cool down, to escape the seemingly unrelenting anger that had them in it's clutches all day. She knew if they didn't resolve this quickly it would take them again. She knocked hesitantly.

He showed up at the door only a moment later, still in his work clothes. He turned immediately to let her into the apartment. He should have known she would show up here; their argument left quite unfinished.

"Take off your coat," he said, "We're probably going to be here for a while."

She obeyed, taking off her coat and hanging it over one of the dining table chairs.

"What are you doing here, Ziva?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"No, but before we continue this, can we just try to keep the yelling to a minimum? We don't want to alert the cougar."

"I would like to have a discussion. I do not want it to be an argument."

He nodded. They'd both had more than enough arguing for the day. He sat down in one of his dining table chairs, inviting her to do the same. After a moment of deliberation of how to approach the subject, Ziva decided to jump right in.

"He was a means to an end," she said simply. "And he was a friend."

"When did you…"

"When I was in Israel. He had come to the funeral, and I knew even then that I would eventually need something from him."

_At the funeral. _After he told her she wasn't alone, after she'd slept in his bed and he'd tried so desperately to save her from her nightmares. When he could still smell her in his sheets, he was sleeping with someone else. Somehow it was a more severe blow than he thought.

She could see his face change. His disappointment, despair even, was evident.

"It didn't mean anything," she said, trying to reassure him, though she wasn't really sure why.

"If it didn't mean anything, why did you do it?"

"I am well versed in the ways of Mossad, Tony. I know the way it works there. You do what you must to get what you need. Sometimes that means doing things you are not necessarily comfortable with."

There was a short pause as Tony absorbed her words.

"Did you even enjoy it?" he asked.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Did you?"

"He did. That's what mattered."

He looked down, frustrated and sad; realizing for the first time that she really did do what she had to do, not what she wanted to do. He ran his hand over the back of his neck repeatedly, trying to form his next words.

"Why does this bother you so much?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair a few times before answering.

"Because I don't want you to be with anyone else."

She almost opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off.

"I thought we were going somewhere, Ziva. I thought we could finally make it, and then…"

"This does not change that, Tony. It does not change whatever it is that we are."

"What are we?" he asked carefully.

"I do not know. Do you?"

"I know what I feel. That's all I need to know."

"I know what I feel, too. But we seem to hit an drag,"

"Snag," he corrected.

"We seem to hit a _snag_ when we try to discuss these feelings."

"A car crash is more than a snag."

"Yes, well, I was putting it lightly," she paused, "When you heard…about Adam…did you feel as though I was unfaithful to you? That it was a sign that I do not feel the same way you do?"

"I guess, a little bit. I know we're not together, but I thought we were working towards something, you know?"

"I do. As I said, this does not change what we are, Tony. It does not change whatever it is we are doing. But I am sorry you had to find out this way. And I am sorry I did not think of how much it would affect you."

"You shouldn't have to apologize, Ziva. I'm sorry too. For making you feel like you did something wrong. That was just me feeling…"

"Territorial?"

"Not the word I would choose, but yeah, I guess."

"Apology accepted," she said. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Ziva broke the connection. "I should go."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. But we will have dinner sometime this week, yes?"

"Yeah, sure," he said as she grabbed her coat.

She reached over and touched his hand. "I never meant to hurt you."

He gently cupped her hand in his. "I know."

She simply nodded, releasing his hand and turning away, leaving a slightly awestruck Tony in her wake.


End file.
